A Match Into Water
by Mtzeala
Summary: I don't remember having breathing problems in my previous life, but at least in this time period I wasn't expected to become a shinobi. I wasn't born into a cursed family either, but that doesn't mean my life would ever be easy. Self-insert. Warring States Era.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is my first attempt in a REALLY long time at publishing an actual story here. And at a Naruto-themed one as well, so forgive me if it's not the best. I've read a lot of self-inserts and I'm going to try really really hard to make this one as original as I can. Constructive criticism is always welcome. :-)

Let me know if this is worth continuing, please and thank you!

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><p><strong>A Match Into Water  1**

.

It started with fire.

That first breath as I came out of the womb wasn't exactly the easiest. It wasn't even air, it was black smoke— I can only imagine how pathetic I must have looked to whoever the hell it was trying to save me. Premature, gasping for air that wouldn't come, coughing up what felt like a lung three times my size. I didn't stand a chance. But those people were still there, speaking in hushed voices I was surprised I could hear over the fire roaring all around them.

Everything was burning, shouldn't they be trying to save themselves?

I would have raised an eyebrow at my own thoughts if I wasn't choking to death. Yeah, that doesn't sound like anything that should be crossing the mind of a newborn baby.

My feelings of helplessness were then replaced by panic. I was dying. Suffocating. And if I didn't choke to death I would probably burn to death. The man who was holding me now cradled me close, and put his hands over my _too _small torso and an odd warmth came over me, slowly easing the stabbing pain in my lungs. By this point I was probably turning blue.

The man who held me was talking fast and desperately to who I could only assume was my mother. I didn't understand either of them, but it sounded like Japanese. And then I wondered how I could put a name to something I didn't understand. How did I even know the word Japanese?

The smoke was so thick it burned my skin, and I didn't dare open my eyes. I was so busy trying to breathe that I hardly felt the wet droplets of _something _hit me as the man stood up, backing away from the woman who birthed me slowly before he started running— and he was _fast._ I don't know how long he ran, or how far, but by the time he slowed down the fire was gone and I finally managed to suck in r_eal _air, and it was so shocking that I screamed and the man jolted to a halt.

He held me out a ways away from him and stared at me like I had grown a second head. The awful polluted air was gone but it clung to my skin and it burned, so I cried and I cried and by the sounds he started making I realized that the man was crying too. All I had been doing was coughing and gasping for air since I was born and this was the first time he's heard me cry. Was he my father? Did he leave my mother to die, knowing she'd never be able to make it out so soon after giving birth? What had even happened?

It was then that I finally opened my eyes, wondering if the fire was gone. Maybe I hadn't seen it, but the feeling of suffocating was still so fresh in my mind that it almost felt like I still couldn't breathe, even though I knew that the fire was long gone. Seeing for the first time wasn't that great, and my vision was blurry and awful, but the surrounding darkness was a relief compared to what I knew I would've seen before. I calmed down considerably and looked up at the man holding me close.

He had dark brown hair, and eyes as black as night. I suppose it was safe to assume he was my father, considering he would cry at the mere sight of me. He smiled when I caught his eye.

"_Nuka." _He said first— somewhat emphasized so I figured it was my name, following up with a string of words I couldn't understand if I tried. I just stared at him as he spoke, taking comfort in his voice and the adoring smile that had yet to leave his face.

He was smiling, I could breathe, and I felt happy.

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><p>Travelling with this man (still assuming he was dear old dad) for who knows how long made me realize a few things that anyone would consider at least mildly important.<p>

1) I was a baby. Obviously. But that wasn't even the worst part.

2) I felt way too aware of things for the fact that I was a baby to truly hit home. The man, the man's heartbeat, the sounds, the surroundings—my vision still sucked, but I knew I was in a forest, I knew we were running from something, and I knew my mother had probably burned to death.

The tears then came like a waterfall and I felt a grief so intense I started bawling on the spot, startling my father. He wiped my tears away and shushed me in an almost panicked manner. Oh, we were probably being chased. Judging by how fast he's been moving, and what had happened. I quieted my sobs as much as I could, earning a sigh of relief from him. My face was still wet with tears that kept coming and I didn't understand why I was so upset. My mother died, yes—but I had never even gotten to look at her. She never got to hold me.

I was born, father took me away, and she died. That was it.

But why? Why did it happen like that? Why wasn't I born in a hospital, safe and away from the smoke and the fire, with the little bracelet that made a noise whenever I was reunited with my mother? Everything that seemed normal wasn't there and I didn't know how to make sense of my situation. I may have been unnaturally aware, but to an extent I wished I wasn't. I didn't understand anything, but I was determined to stay awake until I did.

3) In regards to my oddly acute sense of awareness; my father was tree jumping.

My brain felt like one big question mark.

He wore some sort of armor as well—which I immediately considered weird, despite the fact that I knew I should really have no concept of what is and isn't weird. There was a symbol on his collar as well that I squinted to see, but my eyes were still too underdeveloped to make out what it was. Which was frustrating.

After what felt like many long, boring hours, father stopped abruptly back on the ground. I heard the voices of two other men and I think I gasped. Baby noises pretty much sounded all the same even to me. I huddled closer into my father and kept my eyes shut tight in fear of the unknown. They still spoke that stupid language I couldn't understand, nor could I see them clearly so I thought it was best to try not attracting their attention.

Which obviously didn't work. But at least I tried. He started following them, finally walking like a normal person so I determined that they were not hostile. I opened my eyes again to get a pathetically blurry look at them. One light haired, one dark haired; both in armor similar to my fathers'. Maybe I went back in time and was born in the middle ages. No, that was stupid.

They led us through an impressive wooden gate hidden by an extremely thick layer of trees and foliage, where beyond it lied what looked like a small community. I didn't really know what else to call it—it was a bit too small to be an entire village, but there were houses and people walking around like a tiny, close knit town that for some reason gave me an odd sense of familiarity. The walls and all the trees surrounding it made me feel safe, and although it seemed to block out a lot of natural light there were spots between the leaves where the sun was beginning to peek through. We had been travelling most of the night, so I imagined it was early morning by now.

The only light I had really seen before now was the fire. I blamed my condition as a newborn for my lack of emotional stability as I started crying again at the memory. My sobs were still fairly quiet, but the light shining through the leaves made it easier to see my father's face as he gazed down at me lovingly.

I stared back up at him and forgot about the fire. He loved me, and for some reason that was all I felt I needed in that moment. Yeah, there were plenty of other things to think about that were undoubtedly more important—but I couldn't bring myself to think about anything else. Once again, I blame being a newborn.

My vision kept focusing and un-focusing as I did nothing but stare at him, listening to him talk in that language I knew I somehow recognized. It was almost startling how I picked up on certain words that seemed more familiar than others. He said my name a lot, and a word I remembered meant sister. Or was it brother? I couldn't be sure. Japanese wasn't really a language I knew terribly well.

There was that word again. _Japanese. _How did I even know the word, much less what it meant?

It felt like I knew the answer, but it was like a memory that was on the tip of my tongue but no matter what it just wouldn't come. Might as well blame that on being a newborn too.

I yawned, realizing how tired I was from forcing myself to stay awake all night but then remembered the word my father had said. It probably means I have a sibling. I was admittedly curious to find out, but I ended up curling closer to my father unable to keep my eyes from drooping shut. Forgetting my curiosity, I started drifting off into what I was hoping would've been a few days' worth of sleep.

…

Unfortunately, that didn't happen. I was asleep for a good ten minutes tops.

_"__Papa!" _a high pitched voice rang out, shocking me out of my peaceful slumber. The new voice was definitely the loudest thing I've heard in this existence yet, other than the sound of the fire, of course— and in my frustration I let out a single wail as loud as I could muster to voice my disdain. Father jumped, openly alarmed but the newcomer was undeterred. Opening my eyes and taking a gander at the new voice, I saw a little girl who looked like she was trying to climb up my father's pant leg as she continued speaking the language too fast and much too loud for my liking.

He bent down on his knee to lower himself to her level and she finally shut up, staring at me intently. Now that she was quiet and I could see her at a better angle, she was actually pretty adorable. She looked to be maybe three years old, judging by the rate she could talk, with dark brown hair and eyes as equally dark as father's eyes. They looked nearly identical, I decided.

_But her voice, her voice! _I cringed as she reached for me, and I cursed being unable to understand what she was saying. She was young enough that she probably wasn't saying anything of real value, but it just made it painfully obvious that talking louder didn't make it any easier to understand.

Father finally handed me over to her and I gave him a look that said '_why did you do that' _although it probably just looked like my regular face to him, I figured since he just smiled as if saying _'good luck'. _I felt ridiculously torn as I looked at her. She looked so much like father, and I loved him, so I wanted to love her too. But was it really that easy? She was so painfully loud. I looked for the microphone that I forced myself to believe she was hiding somewhere on her person. Let's just say it's not her fault.

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><p>The three year old sat outside a house by herself, hugging her knees to her chest as she tried to keep from dozing off. The bags under her eyes made it clear she had been up all night.<p>

"Papa…" she mumbled, her eyes half open imagining her father walking towards her like she'd been hoping for all night. He'd come home, and her mother would be with him— her beautiful blonde hair glowing in the morning light with her new baby sister in her arms. They'd all be back, they would all be together and happy again like they were supposed to be.

But then the light started to fade away, and with it her mother and her new sister. She hugged her knees together tighter. Father was still on his way back, but his smile was gone and he was bloodied and bruised all over, his eyes looking empty and hollow. And the closer he got, the more he faded away as well.

She ended up gripping her legs so hard she jumped awake. It was the same dream for the past few hours now. But then a spot of brown hair caught her eye and her head jerked up, attentive and alert as if she hadn't just fallen asleep with her eyes open.

_It was him. _The light in her eyes was more hopeful by the second before she realized—

Mom was gone.

Her smile abruptly faded. But she looked at her father closer, and he wasn't beaten or bloody or even _sad. _Mother wasn't there for the light to shine off of her hair, but instead it was his eyes that gleamed and she finally saw the bundle in his arms. She got up so fast she nearly fell over herself.

_"__Papa!" _she called out at the top of her lungs, making sure this time it wasn't a dream, and it wasn't. She heard it—her baby sister had responded with a shriek of her own that made the three year old feel a surge of relief and happiness that pushed her to run to them faster. Colliding with her fathers' legs, she couldn't believe they were finally home.

"You're back! Did you get hurt? Is Nuka-chan okay? Are you okay? Can I hold her please papa?" she spouted off every question that came to mind, trying to fit it all in one breath. Father laughed and put a hand on her head.

"We're fine, everything's fine." He answered, happy but with less enthusiasm than his first born. As he knelt down to her level she finally got to look at the new sister she had been hoping for.

"Nuka-chan." She smiled and took her carefully from him and held her the way he told her to. The grin felt like it was truly glued to her face, and she was momentarily speechless before the words came back in a flood.

"She's so beautiful! She keeps looking at me, does that mean she likes me? Her eyes are just like mom's, and Miyako-obachan's and Tobi-kun's! But I like them on Nuka-chan better!"

He chuckled at his eldest daughter's antics. She never really seemed to need an answer, and she was happy without one as she looked at Nuka with eyes that guaranteed they would be the best of friends as they grew up.

His smile faded a miniscule amount as he eyed the bags under her eyes. She'd obviously been waiting all night for them—all of them. He felt a pang of guilt at his failure to save his own wife, but he knew that if either of them had a chance to survive, it had been their daughter. And it was what she wanted.

Their old compound had been burnt down to ashes. Completely decimated. It was a miracle any of them had made it out; he convinced himself that he should be proud he managed to save as much of his family as he did. He could've left his eldest daughter all alone.

Although it was true she had an aunt and uncle to take care of her should she be orphaned— a more than capable family, the latter being the clan head with two boys of his own— he still would've died ashamed of leaving her. Her mother couldn't have gone into labor at a worse time, really. But that wasn't anyone's fault.

"Nuka-chan, look." He watched his eldest daughter talk to her as if she was really listening. Then looking at his youngest, he suppressed a light shiver when he noticed the acute intensity in her eyes.

Maybe she really was listening. Either way, he thought it mildly strange but decided he was only imagining it. He was dead tired.

"Nuka." She pointed at her baby sister, and then pointed at herself. "Tōka."

She repeated the sequence a few times, switching_ Tōka_ with _onee-chan_ until Nuka's hand reached up to grab the finger she'd been using to point, making the ever so proud grin on her sister's face even bigger.

No, he decided. She was as normal as can be, and the awareness he thought he saw in her eyes was gone.

"Tōka-chan, why don't you take her home? I have to go visit your uncle. I won't be long. Do you think you can do that for me? Nuka-chan looks very tired." He observed. Tōka nodded enthusiastically, her eyes widening at the opportunity to impress her father.

"Yeah!" she exclaimed and her father put a finger to his lips, motioning to the baby in her arms. She was asleep.

"I mean, yeah." She corrected in a whisper, eventually turning tail and walking carefully back to their home. He noticed the way she looked back and forth from her sister to the ground, making sure there wasn't anything around to make her trip and drop her. Too careful, just like a new parent.

A smile tugged at his lips at the rather sweet sight before fading as he started walking back into reality. He could sense that the clan head was back, and he made a bee-line to where he knew he'd be. It wasn't as if he dreaded the company of his brother-in law—more so he dreaded what the inevitable topic of conversation would be. He knocked on the door twice and the door opened sooner than he expected, but he saw no one.

"Uh…" he looked down. "Oh. Hello." A boy Tōka's age was staring up at him with big, dark eyes. Only having met him a few times in the past, he wasn't sure the boy would remember him or not. It was probably his wife he'd have been familiar with.

"Hashirama-kun, is your father home?" he asked forcing a smile. The innocent curiosity never left the boys' eyes, and to an extant made him uncomfortable. Did he realize he was here with bad news?

"Yeah!" he eventually replied, turning to go find the man in question. But he didn't have to go very far, as the man walked into the room only a second later. Still clad in red armor and white headband bearing the mark of his clan, he gave a stern look in greeting before shooing his eldest son away.

"Atsura." He greeted, and led him into another room where the two sat down at the short tea table. It was obvious that he sensed the ominous mood he carried, and he chose to ask his questions carefully.

"It's good to see you made it back. The old compound has been burnt to the ground by the Uchiha; I expected you and your family would have gone down with it. I saw your daughter return alone late last night as well." He relayed his end of the situation to Atsura, whose eyes were still downcast as he collected himself to respond. The way he'd worded his statement would typically be construed as he had no faith in him, but Atsura knew it was his way of saying he had been _worried. _

"Butsuma-sama," he began. His brother stiffened at the honorific—not a norm between the two of them.

"My wife went into labor at the tail end of the attack. I…had to leave her."

Butsuma closed his eyes, not looking terribly surprised but mourning his loss all the same.

To clarify, it was their wives that were born sisters; Butsuma was not a sentimental man by any means, but knowing the death of her sister would undoubtedly damage his own wife, he allowed himself to feel what he thought he should feel for only a moment.

"The child as well?" he questioned. Atsura shook his head.

"No. I managed to save her, but…she was born near the tail end of the attack, and the air was so polluted that I fear for her health. I did what I could, but I was afraid my chakra would've been too much for her." He explained. Butsuma nodded in understanding, arms crossed.

"There are medics waiting for the others to return. If she seems unhealthy, take her to them. You look like you might need rest as well. I will tell Miyako what has happened." Atsura nodded before his eyes fell back down, staring at the empty table with a defeated look. Normally he knew better than to show this kind of vulnerability in his brothers' presence as it was heavily looked down upon, but he couldn't bring himself to really care. Let him be disappointed.

"…yes, Butsuma-sama." He stood up. Butsuma followed suit a moment later, but didn't follow him out. It was his voice that stopped him in the doorway.

"Atsura." He turned his head. "You are still my brother. And remember, there are no wounds the Senju cannot heal."

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. He forgot there was a heart somewhere in that man at times.

"Thank you." He replied with a nod. Turning once again, he walked himself through the room he first entered. The edges of his mouth twitched into a small smirk seeing Hashirama out of his peripheral vision, peeking at him around the corner.

_Hashirama…you remind me of my Tōka. _

Maybe he could come visit his brother more often. He'd bring his daughters along, too. Nuka was too young to play with them, but time goes by fast. Atsura then caught another set of eyes and a flash of white hair poke out just underneath Hashirama's. He chuckled.

_Tōka was right. It looks like his eyes are the same after all. _

He let himself out, eager to get back to his own family.

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><p>I wasn't sure how long I'd slept. Not that it really mattered; being a baby, I should fly through life easily for a few months just performing my bodily functions. Oh, and waking up coughing until I was blue in the face.<p>

I felt _really _bad for that, looking back on it. My sister's first night taking care of me alone—I'm sound asleep in a makeshift-futon next to her and I suddenly start gasping for breath like a gaping fish.

Tōka's eyes snapped open so quickly I doubted she was really even asleep in the first place. She pulled the blanket off of me, as if looking for something that was choking me but she found nothing. I wasn't aware of much at this point besides my desperate attempts to breathe, but I knew she was panicking.

I had a dream of the fire again, and in the dream I was suffocating. But it wasn't the same fire as the one I felt the night I was born. It was a building on fire, and I was trapped inside. Or was I?

I was huddled in a corner of the room, and this time I actually _saw _the fire, and I saw the air black with the smoke that burned my lungs and my skin and my _eyes. _But the fire never touched me. I coughed once, and I died.

That was when I woke up and kept going. The coughing was violent and my lungs were on fire. Tōka went to pick me up—hesitantly, as if she was afraid she would break me— and held me upright. It was a little less painful that way, and looking at her made me realize that there was no fire and it was only a dream. But my body couldn't seem to understand that the way my mind did, and she hurried out of her room with me to hopefully find father so he could make it stop. I was starting to see black spots.

"Papa help!" he walked in the door just before she could leave. Alarmed, he took me away put his hand on my chest and the wave of happiness and life came over me again, like it did the night I was born. It was as if I could feel the smoke leaving my lungs, even though I knew it wasn't actually there. I started breathing normally again, finally calming down. Tōka was clutching my blanket tightly to her chest in front of her and she cried silently. I zoned out, focusing on breathing again as they engaged in another conversation I couldn't understand.

"I'm sorry papa I didn't know what to do. She was just sleeping and she started coughing out of nowhere and it kept getting worse and I was going to go get you and—"

"It's not your fault. Don't be upset. Do you remember what happened at the old compound?" he asked as patient as ever.

"Um, y-yeah. The Uchiha attacked us and everything caught on fire. Mom didn't feel good so you told me to run away." She relayed in a shaky voice. Father nodded and I was reeling. I started coughing again at the shock that was settling in fast, startling both of them before father moved to heal me again.

The word _Uchiha _rang such a massive bell in my head that I nearly blanked out for the rest of their conversation. I wasn't really listening in the first place anyway considering I couldn't speak their language, but I definitely understood _that _word.

"Nuka was born right in the middle of all of that. It's hard to breathe in the smoke, and her lungs were too little to handle it. You didn't do anything wrong. Don't feel bad." He consoled, putting a hand on her head. Tōka wiped her tears away frantically.

"Oh." She sniffed. "Is that gonna happen a lot then?"

"It depends. I'm going to take her to the medics and they'll do what they can to help her get better. Okay? You stay here and get some sleep. I know you stayed up all night." He chided. She stood up and it looked like she was going to argue and be loud, but then she stopped herself and rubbed her eyes.

"Okay I guess." She moped. He put a hand on her head and ruffled her bed hair.

"Good girl. We'll be back when you wake up." She ran to her room and he stood up with me. He let out a big sigh.

"You scared me little girl." He mumbled to me quietly. I started crying because of the throbbing in my head. _Uchiha _rang through my head like water rippling in a pond, but it was painful and I wanted it to stop. I know I knew what it meant, but it hurt too much to think about. Another memory that was just out of my reach.

All I knew was that they were dangerous, they tried to kill my new family, and I should be afraid—but I was safe with father now, so I wasn't.

.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Back with part 2! This chapter reminds me of the inside of a pillow.

These beginning chapters are a little hard to write so hope you like it anyway! :D

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><p><strong>A Match Into Water  2**

**.**

I developed an odd fondness for my new life after the first few years. It felt odd to think of it that way—my _new _life. As in, the life after my old one. _That I remembered. _While I was quickly able to determine that was probably not normal by any means, it didn't really make much of a difference. When I had just been born, I remembered things but I really couldn't grasp the memory itself, resulting in a series of awful headaches. It was like my body was telling me to stop thinking about it, and eventually I stopped fighting to remember as problems in my new life arose.

When my father took me to the medics they determined that as a baby born slightly prematurely into the aftermath of a battlefield, it was a miracle that my lungs hadn't given out on the spot. I blame the way he had basically suffocated me with his body to keep me from breathing bad air.

Anyway, what they said basically meant that the painful coughing episodes _would _be relatively frequent. Tōka cried when she found out, making me feel incredibly guilty. Apparently, though, our family's medics were extremely capable and with regular healing there was a chance I would one day grow out of my unsightly cough. But until then, I was labeled as _sick_.

Which sucked. Everyone was paranoid with me as if I had a sign on my forehead that said _handle with care, _and to compensate for that I decided to stop crying completely. Whenever I fell, hit my head, or anything in the process of learning to walk I refused to cry in the presence of other people. For the most part, it was Tōka who was teaching me to walk. She would scoop me up hastily whenever I fell and coddle me close to her, frantically asking if I was okay every time, and I would always stare at her and wiggle back out of her arms to try again. She gave me odd looks the first few times, but eventually came to realize I didn't need to be treated like a delicate china tea set. Part of me wanted to do that for her, too, since I knew that her paranoia was only because of the scare I gave her our first night together. Fortunately her nervousness didn't last long, and she became much more at ease with me as I grew up.

That didn't mean that I wasn't practically attached to her at the hip, though. She liked taking me with her everywhere, and the only thing I really minded about that was that she talked _really loudly _when approached by another person. Tōka was a very proud little girl who liked to make her presence known probably because she was short and wanted the acknowledgement of the adults.

Seeing a little girl carrying another baby girl attracted the attention of just about every Senju woman in the vicinity, who all seemed to drift our way just to fawn over us. Surprisingly enough, Tōka managed show me off and be obnoxiously possessive both at the same time. For instance, one day when two women I didn't recognize walked up to us to coo over me and ask what my name was, Tōka blew up.

"She's mine!"They both flinched and looked rather shocked at her outburst, but then she held me out a little further so they could look at me.

"She doesn't look a lot like me but that's because I look like my dad and she looks like mom. Isn't she so cute?" the women looked rather floored by her change in attitude but then they smiled and agreed that I was adorable. Especially when I gave them a toothless grin, and giggling even though it was my sister I was laughing at and not them. I caught on to the language here relatively quickly—and despite my initial dislike of her horribly loud voice, I learned that some of the things she said were worth the volume. And she was much quieter when it was just us and father, which made up for it in my opinion.

Once I could understand a decent amount of their language, I became a much happier baby and often used that to my advantage in my attempts to learn about my new life here. In other words, spying on the adults while they held me and talked about politics thinking I couldn't understand them. The first time I got this opportunity was when I was 6 or 7 months old, and father took Tōka and I to meet our cousins. Well, took _me _to meet our cousins.

Needless to say I was floored from the moment I saw them. I clung to father at first as he greeted my uncle, who was bigger than him with the sternest looking face I'd ever seen. I felt rather odd since he didn't really say anything to me—he obviously wasn't the most child friendly person in the world. He looked me over once and continued talking to my father, and despite my initial want to listen in on their conversation, he made me a little uncomfortable so I was thankful when Tōka finally took me away.

She looked around the room for a while, possibly not wanting to be rude and wander the house of a rather intimidating man, while my eyes were glued to the eyes staring at us around the corner. They stared unblinkingly at mine when he realized I was staring back.

"To." I caught her attention and fidgeted in her arms, putting my hand on her face to make her look in the same direction. She gasped excitedly and the boy we were looking at smiled and ran away. It was adorable, but it was times like these that it was painfully obvious to me that I was, in fact, _not _a child.

"_Hashi-neesan!" _she whispered loudly and took off after him with me. He would stop at the end of each hallway and peek around the corner at us to make sure we were going the right way, where I would find him first and point to show Tōka how brilliant I was. The chase finally ended once we got outside; somehow he ended up behind us and he tackled my sister into a hug. His head was buried in her shoulder.

"I was afraid you weren't gonna come back." He mumbled into her shirt, and I mentally squealed at how cute he was. He was kind of half-hugging me too, since she was still holding me.

"Of course I came back, dummy." She replied in her typical sassy manner and then held me out to him as if I was a cool new toy. "Look, papa brought my baby sister back too!" my personal space bubble was being invaded by two children now and he gazed at me with the same amazement that she had.

_Am I really that interesting? _I didn't really understand the fascination, but it was cute at least. His hair was nearly as dark as his eyes in an interesting almost bowl-cut, and he obviously took after his father in every sense but his personality. She let him hold me and he gave me the biggest, cheesiest grin I think I've ever seen.

"Hi Nuka-chan, I'm your new favorite cousin Hashirama!" he started hugging the life out of me and I deadpanned while he wasn't looking. Unfortunately though, he was squeezing me a bit too hard and I ended up coughing a few times until he stopped. His expression quickly changed to one of fear and he held me away from him to see if I was okay.

"Sorry sorry!" he apologized profusely. I doubted that he knew I couldn't breathe well so I didn't really mind, but he seemed to feel bad.

"It's okay! The medics said she has bad lungs so she can't really breathe that good. She stopped coughing though so she's okay, right Nuka-chan?" I let out a short baby noise just for the sake of responding and I leaned back into my cousin to show him it was okay. He smiled again and seemed relieved, whereas I was frustrated again because his name rang a bigger bell than even the word _Uchiha _did. I _knew _him, and as someone else other than my cousin, but how? It always put me in a mood when I couldn't remember things, so I just pouted and leaned my head over his shoulder. I contemplated going to sleep since I felt a headache coming on, but when I opened my eyes again there was someone else at Hashirama's side staring up at me.

His eyes were weird. So was his hair. I felt a small surge of jealousy when Tōka moved to hug him.

"Tobi-kun! There you are." Tōka greeted with enthusiasm.

"Hi." Was his short reply and he didn't hug her back, but continued to stare at me and Hashirama. "I do it too?" he said to him and held his arms up as if to take me from him. I stared back at him and his weird eyes, gripping Hashirama a little tighter. This white haired boy looked to be closer to my age than theirs, and I imagined he was probably new at walking so I was apprehensive at the idea of him holding me. He didn't seem very stable.

"Nuka-chan might be too heavy for you Tobirama." He denied, seeming to sense my hesitation. His name seemed just as familiar as Hashirama's as well and it made me want to cry, but he was persistent.

"No I can do it!" he grabbed Hashirama's sleeve and his brother gave an overly dramatic sigh. I felt a short surge of annoyance since he was proving to be _that _kind of kid who was determined to do everything himself. The annoyance was only dampened by the fact that he was probably not even two years old and he was absolutely adorable.

"Fine, but don't drop her okay?" he said as he handed me over. Tobirama mumbled a quick 'okay' back—probably just to get him to shut up—and he had to make an obvious effort to hold me correctly, considering he wasn't even that much bigger than me. I had my fat baby arms around his neck in a death grip and I was determined to take him down with me if he dropped me. Tōka seemed to think it was the cutest thing ever whereas Hashirama just looked nervous.

"See I did it." Tobirama rubbed it in with an obviously limited vocabulary. I wasn't terribly sure whether I liked his attitude or not. It would probably be easier to tolerate if it wasn't _me _at risk of being dropped. Hashirama put his hands on his hips and gave him a smile that looked nervous, annoyed and proud all at the same time. If that was possible.

"Okay show-off, why don't you just go—," Tobirama turned tail with me and walked back inside the house. I let out a rather pathetic scream since it was unexpected, and he was rather fast for a presumably new walker. He was also wobbly. It made me nervous.

"Tobirama no wait!" I heard Hashirama and Tōka both call after us. Tobirama didn't bother looking back or anything, and he took the same path down the halls that we had first taken to get outside. I was surprised I wasn't choking him to death with my nervous death grip, but he didn't seem to really notice and continued his hobble-run. My noises of protest eventually died down and he started panting and adjusting his hold on me multiple times. Considering I was about three-quarters of his size, it was a wonder how he was just now getting tired.

Once he slowed down to a normal pace for a baby I realized we were back in the room with the adults, where his father and mine were now staring at us. He walked up closer to his father and I eyed him warily since he was still intimidating.

"Look dad." He said and adjusted his hold on me again. It then occurred to me what he was doing—that he probably carried me all the way back here for the sake of proving that he was grown-up enough to carry me. To his father, not so much mine. I found myself wondering if my uncle neglected them. At that thought, my annoyance at Tobirama's mild bratty attitude was now quelled completely and replaced with a weird sort of understanding. I couldn't stop the glare that came over my face, so I just hid it more into his shoulder to keep my uncle from noticing.

"Tobirama-kun, did you carry my Nuka-chan all the way out here by yourself?" My father asked with quite possibly the kindest smile on his face.

_Take some notes, you old geezer. _I aimed my bitter thoughts at my uncle as his only acknowledgement to his son's accomplishment was a smirk that was hardly visible. Tobirama then directed his attention to my father—probably disappointed the acknowledgement wasn't from his own.

"Yeah." He confirmed. I felt a little bad for him so my death grip loosened into a firm hug, leaning my head over his shoulder hoping he could somehow feel my sympathy. I imagined he wasn't even two years old; carrying a baby my size as far and as fast as he did was _impressive, _and he deserved some kind of positive reaction at the very least. I never had to cry for the love of my father, and that was how I believed it should be with everyone.

It was frustrating because I knew that parents like my uncle were probably everywhere here. It was obviously something that had to be accepted because it was so _common_, but I hated seeing it happen right in front of me. I can't blame the bratty kid for being a brat if his father is an even bigger brat. To make matters even worse, my sister and Hashirama chose that moment to catch up to us—and the look of realization on his face as if he also understood made me horribly sad.

"He ran all the way back here from the other side of the compound!" Hashirama added in a know-it-all voice in the direction of _my _father, and I lifted my head off of Tobirama's shoulder to look at him with wide eyes. The way he said it made it sound like an underhanded jab at my uncles' lack of reaction. Could the happy-go-lucky angel of a cousin I had met be openly _defying _his own father? I had to be imagining that. But he had ignored his father on purpose, and Tobirama seemed to be having the same somewhat-shocked reaction I was having. He ended up blushing a little bit as well from the praise of his dear older brother, which was cute. He should learn to rely on him instead of his father—it was obvious who the better emotional investment was. The look on my fathers' face was still a definite contrast from that of the man across from him.

"Wow, that's quite a long way. It's good to see both of you taking such good care of her." He turned his eyes back to me and my face turned red.

"I taught them how papa." My sister chimed in, eager to take some of the credit as well. She seemed to share the same attitude about it as Tobirama to an extent, and as a spectator I found myself wanting that sort of attention less and less. And Tobirama was still holding me. Father turned his endlessly proud smile to Tōka and she beamed back at him.

"Hm. It'll be good practice before your new sibling gets here." Uncle finally added, actually managing to get both of my cousins to smile for once. My sister gasped far too dramatically.

"You get another one?" she asked in disbelief. Hashirama nodded with the grin of the incredibly proud older brother that he was, sticking his nose up in the air. Tobirama was smiling as well, though it looked like he was trying to hide it behind my fat pudgy body. This seemed to allude to the fact that their mother was still alive; I was curious about her considering she wasn't here to meet me, but not really.

"Uh huh. And it's gonna be a boy!" Hashirama declared, pointing a finger at his father as if to challenge him. He chuckled and crossed his arms.

"We'll see when it happens." He responded and my father sipped at his tea. "Why don't you and Tōka go play outside?" I could only imagine what my uncle's concept of _playing _was. The two of them didn't really seem to care about his abrupt ending of the conversation—typical of three year olds. They seemed to continue it on their own as they said 'okay' and left. Tōka shot me a look as if to make sure I'd be okay without her, and I lifted my arm and waved to show her I was fine. She smiled back at me and I swore I saw a twinge of sadness in her eyes—but why? I frowned.

"Tobirama," his father patted the spot next to him and I silently willed him to disobey, but of course he didn't and joined his side like the good boy that he was. I sat in his lap and he seemed a little relieved at not having to hold my weight anymore. I didn't really want to sit by uncle, but the light and caring gaze from my own father across from us made it a bit more bearable.

"Another boy for the war wouldn't be too bad, hmm?" my father commented and my head snapped to the right to look at my uncle. This was it—the conversation had finally took the turn that I was hoping for and I wholeheartedly planned on eavesdropping to learn more about my situation. They didn't know that I understood them. They probably didn't even think _Tobirama _understood them, even being a whole year older than me. That was why they let us stay. But then I saw my fathers' eyes flicker to me and back to uncle, as if he noticed my reaction.

_Act like a baby. _I looked up at my cousin with the most innocent eyes I could muster and grabbed his nose. His eyes widened in surprise at the sudden attention, and he generally just looked confused. But it made my father smile. Hopefully it threw him off.

* * *

><p>Atsura was a different kind of father than his brother in-law. The differences between them were so evident, he was more than sure that even his 6-month old daughter could see it. Over the months he had picked up her ticks, and while he convinced himself that she was simply a little hyper-aware, a part of him was sincerely curious as to what she could be thinking. It wasn't too long ago he had even took her back to the medics to see if there was some sort of medical reasoning for her slightly odd habits—and yet there was nothing new or different than any time before.<p>

Her lungs were the same, damaged but healing. A problem with her chakra maybe?

They said there was such a thing as _chakra hypersensitivity, _but according to them, Nuka didn't quite fit the bill for that either. Butsuma mentioned that Tobirama was hypersensitive like that, and his habits were odd in the sense that he could tell who was behind a closed door. It wasn't quite the same with his Nuka; she seemed to react strangely towards certain words and objects which obviously had no chakra to sense. The medics didn't seem to have an answer for it other than _see if she'll grow out of it, _like always. It was an answer that always seemed to work on him, though. He often forgot she wasn't even a year old yet.

It was hard for him to describe the feeling he got when Tobirama walked in the room with Nuka. The red eyes were a common trait between his wife and sister in-law, which explained the similarities between cousins. But whenever he looked at those eyes on Nuka, with all her keen awareness, he felt as if there was a phantom wound in his chest and it was his wife was staring him right in the face. Then in the arms of her cousin the amount of red doubled, and the phantom wound was like a hole that only seemed to get bigger the longer he looked. He felt like he'd seen a ghost—then quickly hid it with a smile. A smile that was only partially fake.

Butsuma called his youngest son to sit by his side, taking Nuka with him as he sat down. Atsura was a little surprised at the clan head's lack of enthusiasm over the fact that his one and a half year old carried a baby all the way back here by himself. Tobirama was obviously trying to impress him. Raising boys was certainly different from raising girls, yes—but his boys weren't even old enough to go out to war. Was this kind of attitude towards them really necessary?

"Another boy for the war wouldn't be too bad, hmm?" he questioned as he sipped his tea. Nuka's reaction to his words was noted—or imagined, he was never really sure—and his brother grunted and nodded in agreement.

"Too many died in the attack on the old compound. Miyako needs a distraction as well, since Hashirama started his training." He responded, and all that ran through Atsura's head was _he's a three year old boy._

He didn't let his disapproval show on his face. He disapproved of a lot of things Butsuma did—but he found himself making excuses for him constantly. One good quality was all he needed to find for him to love his brother, he told himself. Everybody has redeeming qualities.

It was a rather difficult notion to believe at times, but his wife said she always liked that about him.

"Already?" he made sure his tone was neutral. Butsuma gave him a smirk and a low chuckle.

"Raising boys is a bit different than girls, brother." As if he didn't know that.

The one seemingly solid reason for the way he is. He raised boys, and they lived in a war. A war in which it was necessary for _children_ to be sent into. Surely if Atsura had two boys instead of two girls he would have been expected to chuck them onto the battlefield as soon as possible too. Not that he really agreed with that, either. Maybe it wasn't Butsuma's ways that he disapproved of; maybe it was just the kind of world they lived in.

With his daughters being without a mother and him being a shinobi, all he was really _expected _to do was maybe leave them with one of the older women who could teach them to cook, sew, and do all those other woman activities. He didn't really want to pawn off his children like that, though. The thought made him cringe a little as well—he couldn't imagine Tōka being terribly interested in any of that.

He smiled a crooked smile and let out a laugh. "That's true. I can't say I'm not grateful." His eyes moved back over to Tobirama and Nuka. The latter was huddled into a tight ball with her arms around him, and her eyes closed as if she was sleeping. Atsura knew better though; her chakra was just as active now as it had been when they got here.

_Clever, but no dice. _He tried his best to steer his thoughts away from her behavior. She wasn't really the type to latch onto new people either—the fact that she hasn't tried to get away from her cousin yet was interesting. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing.

Butsuma didn't seem to care for Atsura's relief at being in the easier situation. He gave him one hard look that yet again seemed to fly over his head. Atsura's aptitude when it came to brushing off any and every sort of intimidation tactic was actually rather well-respected by his brother, even if it was with a smile that was probably fake.

"I was thinking about you taking Hashirama on his first mission." Atsura nearly choked on his tea.

Before he could even begin to think of all the reasons it wouldn't be right for the heir of the Senju clan to be taken out to war for the first time by his _uncle_ and not his _father, _Nuka chose that very moment to choke on his tea for him; she coughed a few times and started rubbing her eyes as if her coughing had woken her up. Which he would believe, considering it actually did happen rather often. This allowed a moment of time for him to think of an appropriate response—even though he know there was only one answer his brother would accept.

"Ah, well of course—I suppose. I assumed it would've been something…," he trailed off. _Something you would want to do as his father._

"Your division has plenty of medics, and I will undoubtedly have business with_ Tajima—_he doesn't need to know about my son." Butsuma gave as his excuse, spitting out the name as if it was poison. It was kind of understandable. At least he had Hashirama's well-being in mind, if anything. He plastered on his fake smile again, effectively concealing his disapproval.

"I understand. It would be an honor, then." Atsura stood up once he finished his tea with every intention of ending the conversation. He directed his attention to the children and his expression became a bit more genuine.

"Tobirama-kun, do you think you could do me a favor and tell Tōka it's time to go home?" the boy in question seemed a little caught off guard at the sudden attention and looked at his father as if for permission. Butsuma nodded to him once.

"Okay." He agreed, getting up obediently and scooping up Nuka. Atsura gave him a look of surprise as he walked off with her again. He didn't necessarily mean he had to take her with him…

Again, not that it was necessarily a bad thing. The clan head's kids weren't allowed around many children their age—it was more for their sake that he maintained his relationship with his brother.

Hashirama's first mission probably wouldn't be for a few more years. Even then, Atsura felt determined to protect his innocence for as long as he could. The way the boy always looked at him gave him the impression he was a lot smarter than he let on. Another set of eyes that he couldn't read—just like his Nuka.

* * *

><p>To say that my clever act of espionage on my family was unsuccessful would be an understatement. I didn't learn much of anything I didn't already know except for more talk of the Uchiha and the war; along with that was now the added worry of my cousin being exposed to said war while he was still just a <em>baby<em>. I wanted to cry when the adults brought it up, but obviously I didn't in favor of keeping up the act as a baby myself. Would Tobirama have to do the same thing? Learn to kill before he can even learn to read?

One thing I became sure of to the highest degree was that this was a sad, _sad _world I had been born into. Literally _everyone _was in the middle of a war. It wasn't just us and the Uchiha—there are a ton of other mercenary clans all over that are constantly fighting. Our clan, the Senju, and the Uchiha just happened to be two of the strongest. And the two with a hatred for each other that ran so deep I couldn't even begin to understand it.

My family name certainly struck a familiar chord in me—just like the Uchiha had. But what really got to me was that the hatred for the Uchiha my family held felt _normal. _Like that was exactly how it should be. I didn't feel any of those feelings, but I didn't really question them either.

"To?" I tried talking to my cousin on the trek back outside since he refused to let me go. The first two letters of his name were the same as my sister, so I officially dubbed him with the same nickname. Tobirama didn't seem to be nearly as chatty as her though, so my attempts at talking to him proved to be in vain. He probably didn't know too many words anyway.

It was when we finally rounded the last hallway and the door leading outside was in sight that he finally acknowledged I'd been talking to him. He put me down so he could open the door, and after he did he came back to me and bent over to look at me closer. His face was weirdly close and I didn't know what he was doing, other than staring at me in silence.

"You should learn to walk."

Oh.

_Well that's not very nice._

I scowled at him. It probably didn't look very threatening but I didn't particularly care. No one said he had to carry me! And then he had the nerve to pick me up again, and I pointedly started fussing just to be a brat in return as he forced me to go outside with him. I pushed his face away from mine as much as I could but really to no avail with the semi-awkward way he was holding me. Jerk.

"You're back!" I stopped my tantrum at the sound of Tōka's voice. She ran out from behind one of the trees and I reached for her immediately, desperate to get away from my captor. She happily took me away and I draped my head over her shoulder, forgetting my childish anger at Tobirama in an instant. My moment of peace was interrupted when I heard something fall from a tree a ways in front of me, though—Hashirama. Very smooth.

Tobirama looked over at him and tilted his head as if he was confused by his brother's idiocy. But then he seemed to remember that he had a message to send and grabbed onto Tōka's sleeve, telling her with his limited baby vocabulary that our father needed us back inside. His vocabulary obviously wasn't limited enough for him to tell me to learn to walk, though, which brought another big fat frown to my face.

Hashirama ran to catch up to us until we were all walking back in together. He was practically bouncing off the walls, pretending to throw ninja weapons at us and trying to ambush Tobirama all before we could make it back to the adults. He pretended that Tōka was an evil villain who had kidnapped me, and he tried to get me back with the help of his right-hand man Tobirama—who ultimately turned out to be a traitor, so Hashirama ended up losing.

"No, no, no! I'm supposed to be the good guy so I can't lose!" he whined from his spot on the floor, where Tobirama had pushed him. Tōka was laughing while Tobirama and I both tried to hide a grin.

"Sorry." Tobirama apologized before helping him up. Turning his mischievous eyes to my sister, he tackled her—not hard enough to push her over, but enough to catch her off guard so that Hashirama could snatch me away from the other side. I didn't particularly like being manhandled, but they were just _so cute! _He held me up in the air like a trophy and ran until we were quite a ways ahead of them.

"Mission success!" he paraded around sticking his nose up high. He eventually shifted his grip on me so he was holding me like a normal person and I caught a glimpse of the nearing adults. My father was there with his perfect smile, regarding us fondly while my uncle was simply there. I reached out to father with both arms, happy to see him even though it hadn't been long at all.

"Papa!" I greeted with one of the few words I had been letting myself use. He lifted me up out of my _favorite cousin Hashirama's _arms and I felt relieved being in more steady hands.

"Did you have fun, little bird?" he asked and I opened my mouth to say _yes _but I closed it just in time, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck and stuffing my face into his collarbone and mumbling into it in response. He laughed.

"Come on Tōka, say goodbye to your cousins." He beckoned her over. She gave Tobirama and Hashirama both the quickest hugs humanely possible and came to hold his hand right away, looking back at the boys as we left. They both stood in the doorway watching us leave; Hashirama waved goodbye over-enthusiastically and Tobirama waved normally, looking a little sadder than his brother about us leaving. Looking over my father's shoulder at them, I started waving back and he smiled.

By this time the sun was beginning to set—I could tell from the way that the light shining through the leaves was multiple shades of orange. Tōka was jabbering endlessly to father about everything she did with Hashirama, and he listened with a patient smile like always.

I knew that this probably wasn't what Hashirama was doing with his own father now—talking about his whole day as if he cared to hear about it. I could only hope that their mother could fulfill all of those qualities that my father had and their father lacked. I was nodding off the more I thought about it, and Tōka's voice became almost soothing background noise. Before I knew it, we were back home and I was with father alone in his room for once. I typically slept with my sister, so what did this mean?

There was his ever-loving smile. "Hey sleepyhead." I yawned in response. "Did you have fun with Tobirama-kun today?" he asked quietly. Tōka must be sleeping already. I grabbed his shirt just because.

"To." He grinned and nodded his head. I knew that most of my responses should probably just consist of me staring at him because I shouldn't understand, but if it made him happy I almost wanted to start talking in complete sentences. I was able to control this impulse relatively well, or so I thought at least.

"Yes, To." He humored me, and then asked the one question that always made me nervous. He didn't ask it particularly often, but it was still more than I liked. The question that always made me avert my eyes and try to wriggle out of his grip.

"You can understand what I'm saying, hmm?"

...


End file.
